Isle of Swords Read Online Free PDF Page B

claim his prey—I’m counting on that.”
    The corvette rolled upward on the swell. A puff of gray smoke appeared on its portside. Then came the report—a muffled boom.
    â€œThis one will be for range,” Ross said. “I just hope he fires long.”
    Except for the mournful wail of the gulls, the deck of the Wallace became silent. The crew crouched—waiting for the broadside to fall.
    Suddenly, a huge plume of seawater erupted near the Wallace .
    â€œHe fired short—great. Stede, get us in closer!”
    â€œCloser? That mon will drop a big roun’ ball right on top of us!”
    Ross took out a spyglass. “Trust me,” he said. “Chevillard wants the ship intact. He’ll fire high when his ship rolls again. Just get me in there so the shot will go over our masts—not through them!”
    As always, Stede turned the wheel at Ross’s command, but doubt simmered on his brow, and he glared at his friend. At that moment, he caught sight of the men positioned high up on the masts, and Stede nodded repeatedly. “Oh, ya b’ a sly mon, Declan Ross,” he said. “It just might wark!” Stede did his best to slide the Wallace in a little closer, but the wind—barely a breath now— offered no help.
    The corvette lurched back, rolling on the swell. Four of Chevillard’s ten portside cannons fired, wreathing his ship in gray smoke. The booms echoed ominously, and Declan grimaced, knowing that he’d doomed the crew . . . if his plan failed. “Ready?!” he shouted up to Cromwell, Henrik, and Smitty. They raised their axes in answer. Ross held his cutlass aloft and scanned the sky.
    The first shot landed just short of the bow. The second tore through the rail and part of the roof of the cabins on the stern. The third and fourth shots were high. One cleared the foremast by a foot. The other whooshed harmlessly between the webs of rigging on the mainsail. At that moment, Ross slammed down his cutlass and yelled, “NOW!!”
    Cromwell, Henrik, and Smitty brought their axes down on the rigging that secured the sails to the spars and the masts. The sharp blades cut the ropes. The topsail and two mainsails crashed to the deck. The William Wallace now really was dead in the water.

7
CROSSING SWORDS
    C ome on, take the bait. Take the bait,” muttered Ross as he watched the sleek corvette rise and fall on the sea swells.
    â€œI don’t much like b’ing the bait,” said Stede with a nervous laugh.
    â€œI don’t like it either,” Ross replied. “But I’d prefer a stand-up fight to being blown to smithereens and letting one of Thorne’s men pick our carcasses.”
    â€œYer not doing much to comfort me, mon.”
    â€œHe’s got to know something’s wrong,” Ross argued. “He’s seen our sails fall. We haven’t returned fire. He’s got to come.”
    The corvette did not fire another shot. At last, it turned and drifted toward the William Wallace . “Yes!” Ross clapped Stede on the back. “Arrogant scoundrel! I knew he’d come.”
    Stede took the spyglass and scanned its deck. “Must b’ close to two hundred sailors on that ship! Did ya b’ knowing that too?”
    â€œI’d take the crew of the Wallace even against four hundred Frenchmen!”
    Chevillard’s dark ship turned and drifted so close that the crew of the Wallace could see the sailors swarming on the enemy deck.
    The Butcher’s men wore black bandannas and had red sashes tied around the waist of whatever surcoat or shirt they had on. They brandished pistols, cutlasses, boarding axes, and many other weapons.
    Ross didn’t see Chevillard, but that was not a surprise.
    Chevillard would wait until the battle was well underway before sticking his neck out. Ross had heard tales of the Butcher’s famous heavy cutlass stolen from a Spanish master swordsmith. Ross had